Guapo Tomato
by ladybug28
Summary: Lovino hates his job, likes his home, and loves tomatoes. One day he comes home from work to discover a basket of tomatoes on his kitchen table with a note from his new neighbor Antonio. AU. Human names used. Spamano. Rated T for Lovi's language.


In this town, nothing spectacular happened. That was the way the population preferred it, content with the dull routine they had long since perfected. The sun rose, they left for work, went out with friends, and came home. That was all they wanted. It was normal, and who needed change, when it was working perfectly for them?

Fucking me, Lovino thought maliciously as he bagged the groceries in front of him. The stack of produce was steadily growing, and his manager was giving him annoyed glances out the corner of his eye. It wasn't his fault that this chick obviously didn't go shopping more than twice a year, if the two full baskets told him anything. He wanted to go home, have a nice glass of wine, and go to fucking bed. It was bad enough that his job took away his daily siesta, and it was already beginning to take his patience as well. His manager was a bastard, his car was a piece of shit, and the only really nice thing he had in life was his house. He wouldn't even be able to keep that if he didn't manage to hold this job. He somehow withheld a groan as the woman finally emptied the first cart, gritting his teeth.

And the first things that were placed on the counter were… eggs. What the _hell_ was wrong with this woman? Didn't she know that eggs, along with bread and chips, were the very last thing to be bagged? He'd already been bagging her shit for an hour, at least, and he still had an entire basket to go. He exhaled through his nose. He knew he should have taken his brother up on that offer, especially considering how well Feliciano was paid. He slid the eggs out of the way and offered a tight smile to the lady, who beamed in return. There wasn't anything he could do now. Lovino continued bagging, and when he finished he was relieved to see it was time for him to go home. He waited patiently as the woman swiped her gold card, punched her pin into the number-pad, and waddled off with two other employees as they carried her purchases to her car. A satisfied smile made it's way onto his lips as he found the sight bitterly entertaining. He followed from a distance, hoping that the two wouldn't find some way to rope him into carrying some of the bags.

They didn't. Oh, they tried, but as they spotted him, Lovino launched himself into his piece of shit- sorry, car- and drove off, giving them the finger as he passed. Normally he would have worried that he might get in trouble by his superiors, but he was off for the day, and they couldn't do shit about it. This comforted him immensely, and his comfort only grew as he approached his home. He inhaled deeply as he passed the tomato fields that were down the road from his subdivision. It was one of the reasons he had chosen to live in this area, truthfully.

His house was in a nicer neighborhood, though technically any neighborhood could be called nice as long as there weren't frequent muggings in the area. All the houses appeared to be the same, but once you were to look harder, you would see the subtle differences in the architecture. A slight color difference in the doors, slight differences in the slope of the roof.. No home was the same in the neighborhood, and Lovino enjoyed that. It seemed to be the only spontaneous factor in his otherwise ordinary existence. He pulled into his driveway, drumming his fingers on his steering wheel. His home, to him, was almost an empty promise of a family and picture-perfect life. They always said promises were nice, until you realised how ridiculous and empty it really was. He had already come to this conclusion, but it did not change his home in his eyes.

He needed to mow the lawn, he noticed, eyebrows furrowing together. If he didn't, the Neighborhood Association would be up his ass before he knew it. God forbid the lawn wasn't three inches exactly. Oh, well. That would wait until tomorrow at least, when he didn't have work. Lovino pulled his key from the ignition and sorted his house key from the others, before unlocking his door and entering. He was greeted with a large basket of ripe tomatoes on his kitchen table. What were these doing here? He hadn't bought them. He hadn't had the money to do so last week when he had gone to the market. Maybe his brother had gotten them for him after he had complained about it. That sounded like something Feliciano might do for him. He might have left a fucking note, though.

He tossed his keys down beside the basket and lifted one to his eye level. It was… Shit, it was beautiful. He had only seen such tomatoes on those billboards that lined the interstate, and everyone knew those were fucking fake. Blasphemy, he called it. These were real. God, he could only imagine how the sauce would taste if he made it from them. He placed it back into the basket, taking extra care to ensure that it wouldn't roll out. As he did so, Lovino noticed a piece of paper sticking out from underneath the basket.

_Hola! I'm new to the neighborhood and thought my new neighbor might like some tomatoes! I hope you enjoy them._

_-Antonio Carriedo_

Huh. So it wasn't from Feliciano. Some brother he had; Lovino had to rely on a stranger to get tomatoes. If that didn't prove that his boyfriend was a bad influence he didn't know what would. With a longing glance back towards the tomatoes he crossed the house to his room. His apron was uncomfortable and his button up was itchy. It only made him hate his job more. He pulled the stiff apron over his head and began unbuttoning the shirt, freezing as he felt a breeze sweep through the room. The window was open. And he was getting quite an eyeful.

Across the road, a house also had it's windows open, but this window seemed to shine with a light not unlike heaven's pearly gates. A blush rose over Lovino's cheeks as he took in the man undressing in the room across from his. Tanned skin was revealed as the man pulled his shirt over his head, giving the Italian a view of nicely toned arms and a well-muscled chest. Lovino turned away as the man tugged his sweatpants down, but not before he caught a glimpse of his round ass- Oh shit. He pressed his hands to his face in frustration. Why, for fuck's sake, was he changing in front of an open window? He covered his eyes and left the room, bumping into the edge of his dresser as he passed.

He needed a drink. Badly. Was that his new neighbor? He sure hoped not, if he ever wanted to get any peace in his own home. He poured himself a glass of cabernet and plopped down on his couch, leaning his head back. He had just taken his first sip, sighing in satisfaction, when the doorbell rang-

" For fuck's sake," he cursed, nearly slamming his wine glass down on the coffee table. He flung the door open, preparing to verbally abuse the knocker.. And stumbled back as he recognised the face in front of him. " Oh, hello!" waved the man. Antonio, he remembered, if this was his new neighbor. " Uh.. C_iao_. What are you doing here?" Lovino asked shakily, still startled. There was no way he could talk to this guy! Not after seeing him shirtless and- and nearly naked. But he was having a hard time taking his eyes off of this guy at the same time. Dark hair was tousled, and a lock was swept in front of eyes the color of a green bean. _Green bean_?! Thought Lovino vehemently. _That's all you could come up with_?! His smile was almost infectious, and he struggled to keep his mouth in its firm scowl.

" I came to make sure you got my tomatoes! It's just that your brother said he would give them to you once you got back. I wanted to make sure he'd remembered." Lovino narrowed his eyes at the Spaniard, ignoring the fact that his brother had practically broken into his house. There was no way this guy was really this nice. " Yeah, I got them." He stated. An awkward silence ensued, and he could almost see the enthusiasm lessen in Antonio's eyes. " Oh. Well, that's good! So… I'm Antonio Carriedo."

" I know," Lovino's brows furrowed at his introduction. Antonio's beaming smile faded a little with confusion. " You do? How?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. He beckoned to the basket on his table.

" What do you mean, ' _How_'? You left a fucking note, dumbass." Antonio laughed nervously and ran his hand through his hair. " I guess I did, didn't I?" Lovino was becoming more and more comfortable with him now that he knew he was a total idiot. As was usually the case. " You know my name, but what's your's_, guapo_?" The pet name flew right over his head as he answered.

" Lovino Vargas," he grudgingly answered, shaking Antonio's offered hand. He supposed he should be polite to this guy, considering he was his neighbor, and God knew how long that would last. Hopefully not too long, unless he decided to start shutting his windows before changing. " Would you like to come in?" He regretted the question as soon as it passed through his lips. Antonio grinned and nodded. _" Si!_ It will be nice to get to know you. We can be friends, too!" Lovino grimaced as Antonio passed him on his way in the house. Not likely. " Take a seat. Would you like some wine?"

" You're too nice. But no thank you. I have to go to work soon, so I really can't stay long." Lovino glanced at the clock. " It's six thirty," he said slowly, as if Antonio didn't know this himself. Where did he work that he left later than four? His brother only worked from three to ten normally, and on some days he worked the lunch shift. " Do you work at the hospital or something?" he asked, too curious to pass up the question. The Spaniard shook his head.

" Ah, no.. I can't stand being around sickness. I'm a tomato planter. I actually own the fields down the road." Of course he did. What else could Lovino expect for a guy who left tomatoes as a greeting to someone he had never even met? Not that he was complaining, but still. " Tomato planter, huh? So wouldn't you be working earlier than this? I thought that they were more productive in the sun." Antonio immediately launched into an enthusiastic explanation of the things he did after dark to the fields so that it was easier to keep them ripened. " Mostly I just talk to them," he said. Oh, great. This guy was fucking insane. At Lovino's uncomfortable expression Antonio hurried to fix his comment. " It's actually scientifically proven that plants can become more responsive to usual methods when you give them social stimuli." The Italian zoned out at this, and his mind became home to what other stimuli the Spanish man could offer. He became flustered at this and tightly smiled at Antonio.

God, he could talk. He could obviously speak Spanish, and he mixed in words and phrases from the language into English. Lovino understood some, but only because Spanish and Italian were relatively similar as far as the meanings went. He talked with his hands, he noted, spotting the calluses on his hands as well as a few dirt spots on his fingers. This wasn't helping, he discovered, his malfunctioning brain. It wasn't as though he could really speak coherently. He just nodded as Antonio continued, listening to his voice rather than his words. He stopped talking for a minute, cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy, and said, " Lovi, you're red! Like a tomato!" At this Lovino huffed and crossed his arms. " Don't call me that, shithead." He simply laughed.

Antonio Carriedo was an interesting person, it turned out. At glance, he looked like an idiot. After the fact, he was still an idiot. But he had an undeniable love for people.. and tomatoes. And Lovino, apparently. At seven precisely he excused himself to leave, saying he had to leave for work. " I have to go and show the tomatoes my love, you know," he left saying with a shrug. Lovino snorted at his comment. " Don't go too overboard. It may ruin them," Lovino told him jokingly. Maybe. He wasn't sure how far he'd go for the tomatoes.

Antonio turned and continued to walk backwards, giving Lovino a smirk. " Don't worry, Lovi. I've got you for that." The Italian slammed his hand over his face, hoping it covered how quickly he was turning red. " Don't say that!" he nearly shrieked, cringing inwardly as his voice raised tremendously in pitch. " That could be taken the wrong way." He could almost hear the laugh in Antonio's voice when he turned back to face the road.

" No, it couldn't."

He went back inside feeling dazed and a little upset. He shut the door behind him, and the next moment he slid down the door until his ass hit the floor. " _Cavolo_," he whispered. " I'm in so much trouble."

Translations:

Ciao - Hello

Hola! - Hello

Guapo- Handsome

Si – Yes

Cavolo – Holy crap


End file.
